


All I Own Is Dust And Gold

by Welshgreendragon



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Black peter pevensie, Characters Reimagined, Families of Choice, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Physical Disability, Vietnamse susan pevensie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-01-01 07:30:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18331448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welshgreendragon/pseuds/Welshgreendragon
Summary: Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy are sent to away from the London orphanage to the country. With parents either long gone or fighting across the sea, all they have is each other. But it isn't until they find themselves in a magical land that they truly begin to understand the true meaning of what it means to be a family.





	1. Chapter 1

A young man weaved through the busy streets of London Finchley. He kept his head bowed low as usual harsh whispers followed him as he made his way through the crowds. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when he pushed open the door to the thankfully empty pharmacy. The bell above the door chimed and a voice called out from the back of shop.

'I'll be with you in a minute.'

He pulled a crumpled list out of his pocket and tried to smooth it out against the counter, until he heard the sharp clicking of heels coming closer.

'Hello, what can I help-'she froze as soon as she saw him her demeanour suddenly became guarded as she eyed him from head to toe. Despite knowing his shirt collar was straight and shirt tucked, her gaze made him feel sloppy and he had to resist straightening his collar again. He could be wearing a crown and she still wouldn't see past the colour of his skin.

'I-' he coughed 'Sister Joan sent me, from Nazareth House, she sent me to collect Sister Margaret's usual prescription as well as- Um she gave me a list.' He held out the list, which she eyed with distain.

Feeling the back of his neck heat up uncomfortably, he placed the list on the counter. She eyed him sternly before picking up the list to examine. 'Nazareth House?' she questioned.

'Yes Miss.'

'Fresh off the boat are you?'

'No Miss. I was born here.'

She almost snorted with disbelief. 'Sister Helen usually comes to collect prescriptions.'

'Some of the hospitals are short of staff so a few of the sisters have left to volunteer.'

'And there was no one more suitable to collect these, was there?' she sniped.

'I'm afraid everyone is busy Miss' he told her honestly.

'So it seems.' She scorned. 'That will be £2 and sixpence.'

Placing the money on the counter, which she snatched off, keeping a stern eye on him she collected the medicine on the list, placing it all into a paper bag, before sliding the bag toward him. He took the bag eager to leave.

'Young man I'm not sure how things work in your country, but over here we say thank you.'

He swallowed harshly 'Thank you Miss.' He told her, unable to say anything more before walking out of the store. Sighing, he made his way back through the busy streets.

It was a fair walk back to Nazareth house but once he found himself back in familiar territory he felt he could walk straighter. He knew the people on these streets as well as he knew himself.

He grinned when he saw the children laughing, swinging around the lamppost using skipping ropes they had lashed together.

'Hello Peter!' one of them shouted.

'Jeremy!' he hollered back grinning.

'You done with your chores yet?!'

'Just a few odd jobs still to go.' Peter replied gesturing to the bag under his arm. 'I'll catch you guys later!' he carried on walking until he reached a familiar building. Nazareth house had certainly seen better days despite the best efforts of the nuns who called it home.

Nazareth House was an orphanage and sister house for London Finchley. There were currently twelve children in the care of four sisters. (Well three really Sister Margaret was no longer able to take care of herself never mind anybody else.) There were nine girls and three boys, including peter.

Peter hopped up the steps and shoved hard at the old stiff door with his shoulder.

'Sister Joan!' he called out to the head nun of Nazareth house.

It did not take long for her to appear. Looking older than her years Sister Joan was a kind woman who took on responsibilities often larger than her shoulders. None the less she greeted Peter with a smile. 'Peter did you get everything on the list?'

'I think so Sister, but I think that pharmacist was ready to lynch me if I stayed much longer to check.' He handed her the bag which she took frowning.

'I'm sorry Peter I did not imagine Mrs Tishelle would be hostile.'

'No more so than anyone else.' He muttered. 'But I don't think I would be welcome back there.'

Sister Joan sighed 'Well none the less Peter, thank you. Your help has been indispensible these past few months.'

'It's really no bother sister.' Peter mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. It was true that with many of the sisters called away he had taken up extra chores in their absence. But as eldest he felt it was his duty, he was fourteen after all, nearly a man.

'Still, praise where praise is due Peter.' She told him with a smile. 'I better see to Sister Margaret, before she starts looking for me.' She left in hurriedly in attempt to find the old sister before she became agitated.

Peter turned hoping to catch Jeremy and a couple of the lads. When a screech made him Jump, spinning around he spotted Sister Bertha storming through the halls. Sister Bertha was not a woman you wanted to cross, with a fuse as short as her stature she didn't exactly have the virtue of patience.

Unfortunately for Peter she spotted him before he could escape.

'Where is he?!' she thundered.

There were only two boys other than Peter and there was only one who dared to test the Hun nun.

'Edmund?' he asked cautiously.

'Yes Edmund!' she snapped. 'Who else would have the gall to steal my biscuits!' she continued to screech.

'I don't where Edmund is Sister.' Peter swore. 'I've been out on errands all morning.'

'He better hope I don't catch him. Sister Joan may be soft hearted. But I know that what boy needs is a good thrashing.' She raved, before storming off in search of her nemesis.

Peter let out the breath he was holding. If Edmund continued pushing his luck, Sister Joan will no longer be able to protect him.

He turned again, hand on the door handle when-

'Peter!'

Well looks like I'll see Jeremy tomorrow Peter thought wryly, although this interruption was far more welcome.

'Lu!' he called, spying the bright blonde hair on the upstairs landing. The girl beamed down at him and began to trundle downstairs. Her leg braces squeaking as she went. Out of all the children at Nazareth house, Lucy was his hands down favourite. All the other children who had come through these doors had all been wary of him at first, and sure most of them warmed up to him eventually, Lucy an exception, he could remember her asking him with watery blue eyes to read her a story on the very first night she stayed here. They had been fast friends ever since.

She stumbled slightly on the next step and Peter rushed forward to catch her, only for her to right herself and huff 'I don't need help.' as she continued unaided down the stairs. Lucy was a kind girl who all the sisters adored (bar Sister Bertha, but there really was no pleasing her.)

When she reached him she threw her arms around him and muttered darkly into his shirt 'You have to save me from Susan.'

'LU!' he guffawed. 'Is she using you as a life-size doll again?'

'Worse' she told him seriously. 'She's trying to get me to practice Latin again.'

'The nerve of her.'

Lucy giggled. 'It's just so boring.' She tried to reason.

'You know Susan just trying to help the only way she knows how.' Peter told her 'It will help in future.'

Susan was Peter's oldest friend; they had known each other since Susan was five and had found a bond with each other. Being the only two children who looked different to all the others they shared an understanding. Whereas Peter was dark of skin and hair Susan was of Vietnamese decent. (Not Chinese as she loathed reminding people.) Neither fit the ideal of an average British family, hence why the pair were the oldest children of Nazareth house.

Susan was a clever girl, although she struggled with school work, and very pretty with long dark hair that never seemed to fall out of place. She could be terribly bossy but it was usually done with the best of intentions, so was easier to forgive.

'I'll try Peter.' Lucy told him earnestly.

'At a girl! Come on let's see if there's anything good on the wireless.' She nodded following him to the small lounge. Unfortunately for Peter as soon as he opened the door a trap was sprung.

A bucket of water that had been left on precariously just above the door tumbled down clunking him on the head and soaking him through to the skin. He growled, shaking his arms in attempt to somewhat dry himself.

'Peter, are you alright?' Lucy asked worriedly, having been behind Peter she had been spared the brunt of it, with only a few splashes of water on her skirt.

'I'm fine Lu.' He muttered pushing his dripping wet hair back.

'What's going on?' A voice called from behind them. 'Oh Peter you're dripping water everywhere!' Susan scolded.

'Edmund's been very busy today.' That was all the explanation he needed to give her.

She huffed 'Go get changed, Lucy and I will clear this up.' She ordered before marching off, leaving Lucy no choice but to scamper after her.

Peter huffed and was about to do just as Susan ordered, when he spied something on the floor. Kneeling down he examined it more carefully, just as he thought biscuit crumbs.

'I know your there Edmund.' He called out to the seemingly empty room. 'You would never miss the chance to watch one of your horrible tricks in action.' Peter stalked the room peeking around the curtains and under the sofa. 'If that had fallen on Sister Margaret you could have really hurt her.' There was no sign of the freckled boy and Peter was running out of places to check. There was only the dresser left, throwing open the bottom cabinets he was disappointed to find them empty.

Slamming the doors shut, Peter stormed off. If only he had looked up he would have seen the freckled boy munching away on the last digestive on his perch on top of the large cabinet, wearing a triumphant smirk.

'They never look up.' He congratulated himself internally. Silently he climbed down. Darting to the window he pushed it open, jumping out before Susan and Lucy arrived back with a mop. He landed with cat like grace, keeping low as to avoid being seen from any of the windows he scurried towards the drain pipe. It was old a leaking but could still support his weight as he climbed pulling himself onto the roof.

The roof of Nazareth house was Edmund's favourite place. There was no where that he felt safer, he was untouchable. He traipsed carefully, minding the lose roof tiles that would give out under foot. From here he could see all across the rooftops of London. He would miss this place terribly when he would inevitably grow too big for the drain pipe to support his weight. He skipped across some lose tiles he knew were lose, relishing in the light summer breeze on his skin. London Summers were always stuffy, he thought, Peter should have appreciated his efforts to cool him down. The look on the older boys face was priceless, the only way it could have been better was if it was Susan, the girl was far too uptight for her own good.

He was just admiring the view when he could hear faint murmurs from one of the dormers just below. Tiptoeing he perched himself on the side of dormer as not be seen, but could still hear the shrill voice of Sister Bertha. 'I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS ANY LONGER!'

'Sister please calm yourself.' He could hear Sister Joan command.

'NO! That boy is a menace! And he needs to be dealt with. After all even the bible says "Withhold not correction from the child: for if thou beatest him with the rod, he shall not die." Edmund Flinched.

'A beating is the last thing Edmund needs.' Sister Joan snapped. 'He has been through enough of that already, dear lord he still bears the scars.' Edmunds hand unconsciously wrapped around himself, brushing against his back where under the shirt lay a plethora of scars. 'What he needs is compassion and understanding.'

'Well, he won't get any in jail, because mark my words that's where he will be going. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.'

'Edmund is a complicated-' Sister Bertha snorted loudly 'child, but a child none the less and no harm will come to him when he is under my care.'

'He might not be in your care for long. We all know he's not right in the head. He never speaks. Just stares. It's unnerving. I reckon he might be touched in the head.'

There was a creak of some sorts and Edmund cursed not being able to see what was happening. When a voice Edmund knew to be the youngest Sister, Mary-Ann 'Oh, my apologises Sisters but Sister Margaret is trying to leave again, says she has to get to the children ready for school?'

'It's Saturday' Sister Bertha remarked dryly.

'I know. I tried to tell her but she is insisting, she's already rounded up some of the little ones.'

'Sister Bertha, can you deal with this?'

'As you command, Mother Superior.' Came the sarcastic response and the heavy foot falls signified the temperamental nuns departure.

'I'm really am sorry Sister, I didn't mean to eavesdrop but-'

'But none the less you would like to offer your opinion on the topic of Edmund.' Sister Joan remarked getting straight to the point.

'Yes Sister, Edmund is- a different child to any I have dealt with before...'

'Are you referring to the fact he does not speak?'

'Y-yes Sister.'

'When Edmund first came to us he suffered with a severe stammer, over time it became more manageable. However, eighteen months ago his parents were granted custody of Edmund, despite my protests. Over a year later I get a letter that Edmund had been admitted to hospital and his father had been arrest for assaulting Edmund and his mother.' He could hear Sister Joan sigh. 'Edmund hasn't spoken a word to anyone since his return. I was hopeful that he would reconnect with Peter and Susan but he refuses. He has isolated himself from everyone.'

'Do you think he will speak again Sister?' The question threw Edmund off guard; his vow of silence had definitely been a conscious choice on his part all those months ago. A horrible thought that he simply was no longer able made him shiver. 'No!' he shook himself it was better this way, easier, than stuttering his way through life. 'Who needs words anyway?' He consoled himself 'If I want something I'll just take it, permission is for losers anyway.'

So lost in his musings he missed Sister Joan's reply, not that he cared what she had to say anyway. No one here was worth the effort of speaking to anyway, not after they had turned their backs on him. 'Only those who see me for the wonder I so clearly am will be worth trying to speak to.'

He traipsed back across the roof, plotting, the one down side about being mute was that so much more creativity had to go into getting his point across. He stopped and pondered for a moment.

'I wonder what I should put in the girls dormitory next a spider or a rat?'

The evening went like any other all the residents sat to eat dinner at five o'clock sharp, sadly with sugar rationed so strictly due to the war; no one in Nazareth house had enjoyed any kind of dessert in some time. Excluding Sister Bertha who kept treat supplies of her own... and Edmund who frequently raided said stash.

When it became it time for the children to get ready for bed Susan and Lucy said goodnight to Peter. And made their way to their dormitories, the boys were lucky thought Susan despite having a much smaller room they only had to share between three, whilst all nine of the girls were forced to the same dorm.

It was a long room lined with five bunk beds on the one side. All but one of the bunks had two chests stacked neatly on top of one another at the foot of the beds, one for each girl who resided there, in which contained all of their belongings. It was a very soul less room. No wallpaper or colour of any kind on the wall. Lucy had attempted to draw some pictures to add some colour but Sister Bertha had taken them away, said they cluttered up the room.

It was a far cry from the room Susan once had. Every year it became harder to remember but she could always recall the beautiful floral wallpaper in her old room back home in Singapore. As well her dolls, her beautiful dolls she could remember spending hours lovingly brushing their hair.

'Could it really have been almost ten years?' She thought in disbelief. She could still remember her parents her mother had been a beautiful woman from Vietnam, kind, and humble. She used to sing songs Susan could only ever remember the tune to. Her father had been a businessman man from London, he was harder to recall than her mother she supposed he must have travelled a lot for his work. She remembered he would always have a gift ready for her when he came back.

She couldn't remember why they were in Britain that day she assumed that they were there for her father's work but she couldn't be sure. All she remembered was sitting in the back of the car, dressed in her little petticoat, as she was unused to the colder British climate. She remembered her mother turning round, telling her to pull up one of long socks that had slipped and bunched around her ankle. She never saw the other car coming, having bent down to straighten and pull the loose sock when she was glass suddenly showered over her. Her parents had been killed instantly but their five year old daughter remained, with only scratches. She couldn't remember crying then instead thinking rather childishly that her parents would be cross with the tears in her new petticoat.

There was no use dwelling on the past though, she scolded herself. Fixing her nightgown she turned to Lucy to help her with hers straightening out the girls collar, despite the younger girls protest. 'It will just go wonky when I sleep.'

Honestly the younger girl had no sense of decorum. While Susan adored Lucy like a sister, the younger girl's sloppiness drove Susan around the bend.

After seeing to Lucy she climbed up to her bunk, the old mattress squeaking in protest. She should have asked Peter to borrow his torch to do some light reading, she mused but it was too late now. From the light snores below Lucy had already drifted off to sleep, much to Susan's envy. The girl was just like a windup toy; she spent all day on the go and as soon as night fell she dropped off to sleep.

Susan always had difficulty falling asleep as had Edmund. Once upon a time the pair of them used to sneak around under the veil of darkness to their little hideaway they had made out of spare cushions and blankets down in the basement, complete with a Christmas light she suspected Ed had stolen it had seemed so magical at the time. Telling stories until they both drifted to sleep and sneaking back at the crack of dawn so no one would know.

She did not know what had changed but when Edmund returned he was far from the sweet boy she had once known. He glared openly at everyone and like a feral cat his back would almost arch before he lashed out at anyone who got to close.

She sighed turning slowly so the bed didn't squeak so loudly. There is no point dwelling on the past. Eventually she must have drifted asleep, but her peace was shattered. The air raid siren blared in the night. Huffing she threw the covers off her and climbed down, grabbing her nightgown from where it hung off the bed frame. This routine had become almost mundane, well as mundane as a bomb threat could get. Most of the girls were well versed in getting up in the middle of the night they did so still practically asleep.

Susan handed Lucy her dressing gown, the younger girl still yawning, her blonde hair sticking up wildly in all directions. Pulling a bag of her most prized possessions out of trunk she kept ready to go on air raids. Susan helped Lucy carry her blanket, she knew any moment now Peter would skid into the room, his most prized Three Musketeer novels under one arm and a torch in the other hand.

As if on cue Peter skidded in the girls' dorm, having sprinted from the boys dorm. Passing Susan his books, while he bent down to pick up Lucy, as her leg braces took too long to put on for a hasty exit. The three of them followed the rest of children down to the basement. Some of the younger girls whimpering when the ground shook as the bombs fell across London.

Just ahead of them Susan could see Sister Joan escorting a disorientated Sister Margaret to their make shift shelter.

The basement was damp, despite the sand bags which were stacked floor to ceiling against the walls.

Sister Mary-Ann was already there, clipboard in hand, ticking off the names of the children as they entered. Sister Bertha was there as well screeching hurry up.

Placing Lucy on one of the few cots, peter slumped against the wall of sand bags, clearly tired. Susan sat next to him placing her bags and blankets on the ground as she began to sort through them.

'Blimey, Su how much stuff did you bring?' Peter asked incredulously.

'Only the essentials.' She told him haughtily. 'Honestly Peter, if you had an ounce of sense you would bring something other than books that you've read a hundred times.' She passed him a blanket which he took sheepishly. Handing Lucy a blanket and her prized stuff toy dog ('Toto!') she huffed 'Honestly would it kill you two to be a little more organised?'

The basement soon felt cramped as it filled making it almost impossible to manoeuvre without stepping on someone.

'Sister Mary has everyone been accounted for?' asked Sister Joan.

Checking her sheet twice the Sister replied 'Yes-No! No Sister, Edmund is not here!'

Another BOOM and the earth trembled, sending dust trapped in the ceiling cascading down on them. 'That must have been in their street.' Susan realised with horror. She barely had time to react when Peter shot passed her never looking back even as she screamed his name.

Peter sprinted through the halls, heart pounding in his ears as he searched high and low for the boy. Throwing open every door he passed screaming the boys name. He almost slipped when the ground shook hard again and a terrifying boom almost made his ears ring.

He almost carried on running, when he spotted a foot peeking out from behind the curtain. Out of sheer fear and anger Peter grabbed the boy by the ankle and yanked hard. Pulling the boy of the windowsill and sending him crashing to the ground. 'What the hell do you think you're playing at!?' he bellowed at him yanking the boy to his feet, grabbing Ed's arm he ran dragging the boy behind him, barely noticing him stumble trying to keep up with his shorter legs.

There was a thunderous bang, and entire hallway was illuminated in a fiery burst of light. The windows shattered inwards a piece of glass narrowly missing Peter's eye as it cut across the bridge of his nose.

Peter practically threw Edmund down into the basement, as he scrambled with shaking hands to lock the door.

Edmund had barely made it down the stairs, when a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder. He didn't even have to turn to know whose it was, Sister Bertha was seething as she dug her nails into his shoulder. 'JUST WHAT WAS GOING ON IN THAT TINY LITTLE BRAIN OF YOURS?!' She screeched.

'Peter are you alright?' Sister Joan inquired softly helping the shaking Peter sit on her cot, carefully examining the cut on his nose and for checking for any more serious injuries. 'I'm fine Sister.' He assured her with a shaky smile.

The next day they would emerge to find the three houses just opposite, had been reduced to nothing but burning rumble. The occupants brought out on stretchers, a thin sheet covering them from head to toe.

It came as almost a relief to Sister Joan when a letter arrived on her desk, a new government program; all children from major cities were to be evacuated to the countryside. Last night was a horrifying foray into the realities of this war; the children simply were not safe here.

She wrote immediately to the Sister house, praying for a speedy reply. However, when the reply came the reply was far from a relief. The Sister house only had placements for eight children. That left four children without a safe home.

Pinching her forehead in a futile attempt to prevent a migraine, her elbow knocked over a pile of old letters she had neglected to sort. Sighing she bent down to pick them up when she paused, spying a letter from an old friend. An idea sprung to mind and hurriedly she reached for her pen.

'Dear, Diggory-'


	2. Chapter 2

Three days had passed since the night of the air raid. The shattered glass in the halls had been swept and the windows boarded but the rubble carpeting the street could not be swept away so easily. Seeing their neighbours belongings scattered in the ruins of their homes had a sobering effect on all the residents.

The house was quieter than any could recall, until that lunchtime. Sister Joan had stood calmly at the head of the table eliciting the attention of all present. Taking a deep breath she began. "Children it is with a heavy heart that I make this announcement. After much deliberation it has become clear that Nazareth House can no longer offer a safe haven for you children. In light of this I have been in contact with the Sister House in Devon who has agreed to shelter you for the duration of the war."

The table immediately burst into murmurs and whispers. Many had never left the borough, let alone the city.

"Sister!' A young girl called out, 'Is this because of him." She pointed unabashedly at Edmund who scowled at her. Many of the girls around her clearly concurred as they glared and sneered at him.

"No, this is not Edmund's doing, while his actions the other night were certainly reckless. One need only look out the front door to see the devastation this war has brought to our very streets."

Despite her words the hostile glances did not abate, but no one uttered another word to the contrary.

"When do we leave Sister," Peter asked suddenly.

Everyone turned to Sister Joan who swallowed uncomfortably.

"Tomorrow" She answered.

This time the table erupted, children shouting in protest and disbelief. Sister Joan's volley of platitudes were lost among the sea of voices.

"QUIET!" Sister Bertha roared, slamming her hands down on the table, startling everyone to silence.

Sister Joan again cleared her throat. "Thank you Sister Bertha," She said trying to placate the irate nun who slowly sat back down.

"I know this is a sudden change and I do not doubt it will take some time to adjust to but this is only temporary. Wars do not last forever and I have no doubt that we will all be sitting around this table again in a safer London."

When no one offered anymore objections she gave them a small smile. "Children you are excused. Please pack sensibly and remember to pack clothes for all weathers."

The rest of her words were drowned out by the scraping of chairs against the old wooden floors and the children murmuring amongst themselves.

"Peter, Susan," She called over the din, stopping the pair in their tracks. "Please meet me in my office. The door is open; I'll be with you shortly."

the pair looked at each other puzzled. Whispering a promise to Lucy to meet up later, they departed for Sister Joan's office.

Sister Joan found them around ten minutes later. Sitting ram rod straight in the uncomfortable wooden chairs looking nervous and wide eyed, not that Sister Joan could blame them. It was unfortunate that her office had come to be associated with punishment and bad news.

She smiled kindly at the pair, shutting the door quietly behind her. "At ease both of you.' She joked lightly. 'Neither of you are in any trouble."

Peter visibly deflated, sliding down in his seat. Susan gave Sister Joan a little smile but at the same time began to play with the hems of her sleeves, a nervous habit she had yet to grow out of.

"I actually have some good news for you both. You see the Sister House in Devon could only offer to placements for eight children."

"You mean four of us will have to stay," Peter interjected, ignoring Susan's look of indignation that he had interrupted an adult.

"No Peter. It means that you will be staying with an old friend of mine. He is a professor of... oh, he has told me but I can never remember. He lives in a manor house in Wales and has agreed to house you for the foreseeable future."

"A manor house?" Susan gasped looking at Sister Joan with disbelief.

"Yes, from what I can gather he has a rather large estate. He is a rather... eccentric fellow but I can assure you he is very kind and is rather eager to meet you.

"He is," Peter asked apprehensively.

"Yes Peter. We have been corresponding for many years and I have told him what a responsible pair you are. It will be a welcome treat for you and I'm sure the four of you will have a wonderful time there".

Peter and Susan smiled at each other. "Wait, Sister. You said the four of us," Peter asked slowly.

Sister Joan nodded, "The pair of you, Lucy-' They breathed a sigh of relief. '-and Edmund."

"Edmund!?' Peter almost choked. 'Sister can't you send someone else?"

"Arrangements have already been made Peter."

"But-but."

"Peter,' Sister Joan sighed. 'While I can't divulge any details surrounding the circumstances behind Edmund's return. I can tell you that he needs guidance now more than ever. I know this is a lot to ask of you both but in my absence I need you to look out for him. I've seen what a good influence you have been to Lucy and I have no doubt you could do the same for Edmund."

Peter was about to protest further when Susan cut him off. "Of course Sister, we will watch out for them, both of them." She emphasized, shooting Peter a stern look.

Peter huffed in defeat, slumping down in his seat and pinching the bridge of his nose. "We'll look after them."

"Thank you both. Now these are for you and Edmund and Lucy." She rummaged in her desk draw pulling out a handful of labels. "These are for you and the others. There are two each, one for your suitcase and one to be pinned to your jackets. Please ensure Lucy and Edmund receive theirs. Now that our business has been concluded I believe the pair of you have some packing to do." She said with a smile

In the girls dormitory Lucy sat on her bed completely oblivious to the chaotic movements of her dorm mates as they hurriedly packed for the journey ahead of them. Immersed in thought, she lovingly stroked with a hand the framed picture. It was taken the day he had left. Sitting proudly in his RAF uniform, her father wasn't smiling but his kind eyes seemed to gaze back at her.

She still remembered so vividly, the day he had left.

The rain had battered against the roof of the car. Pulling outside its destination, her father got out carrying his daughters suitcase, before helping his daughter out of the car.

Unsteady she slipped but her father caught her lifting her easily into his strong and steady arms. She did not protest that she was too old to be carried. Instead she clutched at his jacket, hoping to keep him as close as she could.

He took the steps two at a time trying to avoid the worst of the rain. Knocking on the large wooden door they waited.

A middle aged nun answered, hurrying them both inside. Despite being out of the rain her father did not put her down, instead allowing his daughter to cling around his neck

"'Hello, you must be Lucy.' The nun spoke softly. 'I'm Sister Joan."

"Hello." She mumbled into her father's collar.

'"Lucy. Sister Joan will be looking after you for a while... while I'm gone." Her father told her, gently he tried to put her down onto the ground but she clung to him.

"I don't want you to go!" She cried, clinging to him with all of her might.

Her father sighed, gingerly prying his daughter away from him so he could meet her eyes. "Lucy, look at me please darling."

She did, her baby blue eyes red rimmed from crying and her chin wavering. "I don't want you to go away like mum," She whimpered.

Wiping away her tears her father spoke, "I know this is hard Lu. It hurts me too... But you know I have to go, do you remember why?"

"To keep us safe?" She whispered.

"Exactly, but in order to help I need to go. I shan't be gone forever and I'll write as often as I can.

You'll like it here Lu, there's lots of children your age. A lovely girl like you will make dozens of friends. You won't know yourself. Come on sweet heart. Where's my little ray of sunshine at, huh?" He teased gently.

She offered him a little smile despite her tears. "There she is. You're such a brave little girl, so much like your mother," he trailed off wistfully.

"I miss her," Lucy sniffed a fresh tear rolling down her cheek.

"I do too, baby." He wiped her cheek. Hearing the car horn blare outside her father started getting up from his knees. "Now you'll be a good girl for Sister Joan here, right?"

Lucy had all but forgot the nun who had stood back to give father and daughter some privacy.

Not trusting her voice she nodded and he kissed her forehead. "That's my brave girl," He whispered before nodding to Sister Joan who took Lucy's hand in hers.

He ran back through the pouring rain leaving his daughter to watch the only family she had left pull away into the darkness.

That was the last time she saw her father, there was so much she should have said to him. He had kept his promise to write to her when he could, although his letters were few and far between she treasured them all, keeping them in a bundle under her pillow.

It had been sometime since his last letter but she knew he must be busy. He was fighting in a war after all she did not imagine that was easy.

She had sent him as many letters as she could afford to, telling him all about Nazareth House, Peter, Susan and all the games they had played but she often found herself talking to his portrait; somehow it just felt more real than writing a letter. She could imagine him smiling as she would tell him about her day. His deep booming laugh as she told him some of Peter's jokes.

There wasn't a day that went past that she didn't missed him.

"Lucy? Are you alright?" Susan startled her out of her musings, her father's photo slipped from her hand. Thankfully it never hit the floor. Susan's sharp reflexes were a God send.

Gently Susan handed it back with a small smile. "Talking to your Dad?"

Lucy nodded stroking the worn frame again. "Do you think he will know where I am? When we go to the country? How will he know where to send his letters?" she worried.

"It will be alright Lucy. You can send him a letter with the new address and I'm sure even if he doesn't send them to the new house Sister Joan will send them on for you. There's no need to worry," Susan soothed.

Many of the other children found Susan's matter of fact manor to be irritating and a little arrogant but Lucy often took comfort from the other girl's surety.

"I actually have some good news for you Lu." Susan sat down next to her and leaned in to whisper consolingly "We are staying at a Manor house."

"Really!?" Lucy, unable to control her eagerness chirped.

"Lucy," Susan reprimanded her, checking to see if the girl's outburst had drawn the attention of the others. They weren't a bad bunch but there were definitely a few more precocious characters who would pitch a fit if they thought someone else was getting a better deal than them.

Other than a few glances, the others were too wrapped up in themselves to concern themselves with Lucy and herself.

"Sorry,' Lucy whispered back. 'A manor? Truly?"

"Yes, there wasn't enough room at the Devon house so Sister Joan arranged for us to stay with an old friend of hers. Just you, me, Peter and Edmund." She grinned at the younger girl who was clearly trying to contain squeals of joy.

"Oh, this is going to be wonderful. Susan, can you imagine. I bet it's a beautiful home and Oh, I'm sure her friend is lovely. Sister Joan is very kind so I'm sure her friend will be too..."

As Lucy continued to ramble on Susan thought that perhaps she should have left the news until morning. At this rate the girl was going to be far too excited to sleep tonight.

The next morning was a rush. Sister Bertha hurried them through breakfast and by nine o'clock sharp all the children were lined up in the hallway. Carrying their suitcases and gas masks, they stood silently as Sister Bertha marched up and down the line. She inspected all the children as she passed and checked their tags were secure.

'Right, come on you lot. Pair up, pair up! Hurry up we haven't got all day!' Apparently done with her inspection she marched the children through the streets of Finchley.

Lucy yawned as she plodded her way through the street, there had been far too many thoughts running through her head for her to fall asleep the night before. Spying Susan trying to stifle a yawn she knew she was not the only one.

Despite the station being only a twenty minute walk Lucy began to struggle as her legs began to ache. She was tempted to ask Peter for a piggy back ride but he was struggling trying to keep a tight grip on Edmund who was squirming like mad trying to get Peter off him.

She caught Edmund's eye sending him what she hoped was a reassuring smile but he scowled at her and almost seemed to bare his teeth. She wasn't sure why he seemed to dislike her so much but then he seemed to dislike everyone. Even though many of his problems were of his own making she couldn't help but feel sorry for a boy who didn't have a friend in the world.

When they arrived at Finchley station it was packed with children bidding their mothers tearful fare wells. It made their own farewell rather anticlimactic as Sister Bertha slapped the tickets into their palms with the ever so helpful instruction, 'Get on the train' before she disappeared into the crowd, they were "reeeally" going to miss her.

Edmund had managed to use this momentary distraction to escape Peters hold. Peter huffed in defeat, prepared just to let the boy go, until he saw Susan's face.

"What? I managed to drag him here didn't I," he defended himself.

Susan huffed, grabbing his hand she put Lucy's smaller one in his. Muttering angrily she weaved through the crowds in search of Edmund.

Lucy looked up at him and smiled, trying to cheer Peter up. He gave her a tired smile in return and squeezed her hand. "You alright Lu," he asked. She nodded leaning against him.

"Come on Lu let's just get on the- ," he trailed off staring at something through the crowd.

Standing on the tips of her toes she tried to peek through the gaps in the crowds until she spotted what had caught Peter's attention.

A group of soldiers marched through the crowds, not an unusual sight in these times but what made this sight rare was that they were all black men. Marching proudly in their uniforms they walked with heads held high. She glanced back at Peter wondering what he was thinking. 'Peter.' She called to him tugging his sleeve.

Startled he glanced down at her and she pointed to where the conductor was inspecting tickets. Squeezing her hand tightly they weaved through the crowds, showing the inspector their ticket before boarding the train.

It wasn't too hard to find an empty carriage, many children had yet to board. Peter put their suitcases into the overhead compartment and they practically melted into the seats

"Do you think Susan and Edmund will be able to find us," Lucy asked nervously biting her lip.

Peter grinned, "I'm sure Susan will be able to find us, Lu. After she puts Edmund on a leash," he joked.

Lucy cuddled her toy dog Toto tightly as she watched the children still saying goodbye on the platform. It was not easy watching parents doting on their children when theirs were not able to, it made Lucy long for her pretended not to be bothered by it but Lucy could see the longing glances as they watched a mother kissing her children goodbye on the cheek.

Susan burst into the compartment out of breath and her hair dishevelled. She dragged Edmund in behind her, who scowled but no longer struggled. Peter stood and took her case to put in the overhead. Edmund saw to himself flopping down on the seat. Lucy offered him another smile but he ignored her, instead curling up on the seat and throwing his jacket over himself, successfully hiding his face.

The train lurched forward and three of them watched as the people on the platform grew smaller and smaller.

Peter pulled out one of his three musketeers books, much to Susan's displeasure. "Oh honestly Peter can't you read something else. You must have read those over a hundred times."

"Ah but Su, what's not to like. There's adventure, sword play and camaraderie. There is no better tale in my opinion," Peter boasted.

Susan huffed and remarked, "I think I will stick to the classics."

"Suit yourself" He smirked.

Over an hour into their journey Lucy and Edmund were sound asleep. Susan sat looking out of the window. It was a longer trip than she had anticipated and she was thoroughly bored. She glanced at Peter who quirked his eyebrow and grinned. He slowly slid the book towards her on the dividing table.

She glared at him momentarily before snatching the book. Catching a glimpse of Peter's triumphant air she thought, "Just wait until I give this my review."

The train's journey felt like an eternity as stop after stop more children were dropped off like parcels waiting to be picked up by the strangers they would be living with.

Finally the four children disembarked to find not only an empty platform but a land devoid of civilisation for miles around the station. With only the chirping of crickets for company, they sat on the steps worrying they might have gotten off at the wrong destination. Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy began growing apprehensive at the distant sound of hooves clip-clopping on cobblestone.


	3. Chapter 3

The ride to the Manor had been silent and stilted. The driver who had brought them here had not been very friendly; instead he had just grunted and pointed to the huge front door when they had stopped and drove off the moment they had stepped out of the cart.

Hesitantly Peter had opened the heavy wooden door and the four of them had made their way into the enormous hallway. Lucy clung nervously to Peter's side, unsure she liked the way every sound seemed to echo throughout the whole house.

As they waited, unsure the four gazed around the vast entrance hall, Lucy did not think she had ever felt so small looking up at the high ceilings, it was a far cry from the tiny London terrace that she and her father called home.

A gold shimmer of light flickered before her eyes, blinking she spied another and another. On the central staircase, there was a suit of armour which was bathed in gold and red shimmers of light. Looking behind her she gasped, above the door, in the middle of the huge arched window was the image of a lion. Painstakingly hand painted in shades of red and gold it was an impressive sight and Lucy was mesmerised with was its beautiful golden eyes.

The sharp bang of a door shutting startled her and the others. The sharp clicking of heels on the wooden floors echoed throughout, making it almost impossible to tell which way they were coming from. The children subconsciously began to move closer to each other as they clicking grew louder and louder.

A woman stared down at them from the galleried landing. Scrutinising each of them from over the top of her round glasses, her top lip curled into small sneer suggesting she was decidedly unimpressed with what she saw.

'Is this all of you?' She drawled with a slight Scottish lilt.

'Yes. Yes Mrs Um?' Peter paused.

'Macready. Miss Macready.' She gave them a sharp nod with her head and began to walk off.

Peter and Susan gave each other a rather startled look before they hurried up the stairs, Lucy and Edmund scrambling after them, as they followed Miss Macready.

'I am the House keeper and my word is second only to the Professor. It is by his benevolence alone that you will be staying here, but believe me when I say it is a privilege that will not be extended a second time.' She turned suddenly to scowl at them and Susan almost ploughed straight into her. Moving along Miss Macready began to prattle off a stern set of rules she wanted the children to follow as she lead them through maze like corridors.

'There will be no running, no shouting, no fighting, no improper use of the dumb waiter and NO Touching of the historical artefacts!' She screeched at Susan who had reached out to touch a small statue.

The other three thought the look of astonishment on Susan's face was fantastic, trying to hide their giggles, it was an incredibly rare thing that prim and proper Susan was ever told off.

The glare she shot them in return suggested they did not hide their glee well enough.

Miss Macready came to a halt 'And above all else the Professor is not to be disturbed.' She warned them. 'Boys on the left. Girls on the right.' She told them before leaving them outside their rooms.

The rooms were actually rather modest, with twin beds and a chest of drawers. But to the children of Nazareth house they were a luxury. The girl's room even had it own wireless which Peter, Susan and Lucy gathered around that evening after super.

The baritone news reader brought no good news, instead listing the recent areas that had been devastated during the blitz. Huffing Susan switched it off, at Peter's questioning look she gestured pointedly to Lucy who had been sniffing and absent-mindedly pulling on a lose thread on her sheet.

'Oh. Lu' Susan sat down next to her, pulling the younger girl to her side. 'Wars don't last forever, we'll be back in London before we know it.'

'Sue's right Lucy and besides we've got it made here, huge house and gardens we have it all to explore. Just think of the adventures we will have. Tomorrow's going to be great.' Peter promised her.

But true to British form it didn't just rain, it poured.

'We'll it looks like we'll just have to explore inside.' Peter said sheepishly, looking to Susan for approval.

'I suppose we ought to try and get our bearings, it is an awfully big house.' Susan conceded.

Grinning widely Lucy grabbed Susan's hand began pulling her along.

'Wait. Do you not think we should ask Edmund along as well?' Susan asked.

Peter shrugged 'I would if I knew where he was, you know what he's like for disappearing.'

'Oh, I do hope he is not getting into any trouble.' Susan fretted. (She was well within her rights, as Edmund was currently ransacking the kitchen in search of a sweet snack.)

The three made their way down a long series of corridors which they allocated names, to help them remember their way around. There was the Knight's corridor which had a medieval suit of armour, the corridor with the portrait of a woman who had been depicted as having only one huge eyebrow which they named the scowling lady way. To name a few.

They found many fascinating rooms on their tour. It was clear the Professor was a very well travelled man, having such a varied collection. A pair of swords from Japan, a several cat statues from Egypt and a whole room dedicated to exotic stuffed birds. A room they had to leave fairly swiftly as Lucy found their cold glass eyes too unnerving.

It was rather disappointing when they opened the next door to discover an empty room, all but a dead bottle top fly on the windowsill and a single object covered in an old sheet up against the far wall.

'Nothing in here.' Peter huffed, already making his way down the corridor with Susan close behind him, but Lucy stayed. For a reason she could not quite explain she felt a pull right in the middle of her chest.

As if she were a puppet whose strings were being pulled she walked over to the hidden object, taking the scratchy old sheet firmly in her hand she gave it one hard tug and watched it fall around her feet.

There in front of her was a wardrobe. It should have been a rather anti-climatic reveal, but Lucy was far too taken with the strange images that had been intricately carved into the wood. Running her hands over a carving of a horse with wings she wondered what story they were trying to tell.

Peering around to see if anyone was looking, she tried the handle which opened with a squeak; two mothballs rolled out and landed by her feet but she paid them no attention. To her absolute delight the wardrobe was filled with lavish fur coats. She inhaled deeply allowing the smell of fur to take her back to church on Sundays with her mother, women in their Sunday bests often wore fur coats, scarf's and gloves.

Wanting to feel the fur against her skin she began to slip into the wardrobe, only for her foot to catch on the bottom frame. She tumbled forward, knocking many of coats off their hangers as she was sent sprawling to wardrobe floor with a few coats landing on top of her.

She huffed under the blanket of coats before shaking the one off her head. It hadn't even hit the ground when she felt a cool breeze ruffle her hair. Curiously she crawled forward, a struggle with her braces, until she spied a beam of little beams of light poking through behind a mink fur coat. Pushing it to one side her hand brushed against something cold, wet and prickly.

She couldn't quite believe her eyes when she looked closer. There were branches in the back of the wardrobe.

Taking one final glance back at the empty spare room through the open wardrobe, she pushed forward through several thick branches until she was able to stagger clumsily to her feet.

Thick white snow crunched under her shoes and all around her were giant fir trees that seemed to pierce the grey sky line.

Lucy beamed in wonder as she reached out to catch some of the snowflakes that drifted all around her in the palms of her hands. Never could she recall seeing such a beautiful spectacle as the pure white snow that seemed to carpet the path ahead. London snow was rarely white, but grey sludge with all the traffic and smog.

She wondered a little way through the forest when she spotted a warm light glowing up ahead, following it she reached a small clearing through the trees in which a lamppost burnt brightly.

'How odd.' She thought running her fingers against the frosted metal. The snap of a twig breaking underfoot made her jump. She heard the shuffling off feet coming from somewhere in the trees and the realisation she was not alone washed over her like icy water. Peter and Susan did not even know where she was.

Her heart seemed to pound against her rib cage as she heard the footsteps grew louder. When a figure emerged out from the trees she did what any eight year old would do. She screamed.

The figure screamed back, startled it dropped the items it was carrying before darting back behind a tree.

Surprised Lucy blinked 'They seem to be just as scared as me.' She thought.

Mustering up her courage she walked carefully to where she saw the figure drop their things. Bending down she carefully began to pick up the discarded parcels in snow.

'Ah, that, um, those.' Looking up she could now see a face poking out from behind the tree.

'I'm sorry for startling you.' She offered kindly.

'I wasn't startled I just didn't want to-.' The figure began to protest, stepping out of their hiding spot and quickly began gathering the parcels that lay in the snow '-to scare you'. But Lucy paid little attention to his words as there before her was not a man, well not entirely at least.

His entire lower half was covered in thick fur, chestnut with white patches colours which bizarrely matched his face and bare chest as his skin was brown with white patches everywhere. A small pair of horns protruded from his head and in place of feet were hooves. He wore nothing other than a long bright red scarf despite the freezing cold.

The pair stood in silence, the creature picking up the rest of his dropped parcels until Lucy asked the burning question. 'If you don't mind my asking, what, what are you?'

Puzzled, the creature looked up at her and laughed breathlessly 'Why, I am a faun of course.'

'A faun?'

'Yes a faun.' He replied slowly 'Where in Narnia have you been that you've never heard of a faun?'

'Narnia? What's Narnia?'

'What's Narnia? What's Narnia?' the faun repeated aghast 'My dear you are the strangest dwarf I have ever come across, no beard and you do not even know the name of the land on which you walk on.'

'Dwarf?!' Lucy shouted affronted. 'I'll have you know I'm the tallest girl in my class.'

The faun looked startled and even stumbled slightly. 'A girl?' he breathed 'You are a daughter of Eve?'

Lucy wasn't quite sure she understood 'My mum's name was Helen.'

'Yes, yes, yes' the faun waved her off 'but you are in are in fact human?'

'Of course.' She told him.

For a moment a strange look came over the faun but before she could blink it was gone.

'How in the world did you get here?'

'I'm not entirely sure.' Lucy told him honestly 'I was in the wardrobe in the spare room-'

'I'm sorry SpareOom. I should really have paid more attention in geography when I was a little faun.' The faun suddenly startled. 'Oh dear, please, please forgive me. I'm normally a better mannered faun. My name is Tumnus.'

'Nice to meet you.' She grinned 'I'm Lucy Pevensie.'

'Well Lucy Pevensie from the sparkling city of Wardrobe in the fascinating land of SpareOom. How would you feel about coming to tea with me?'

'Oh I would love to, but I really ought to be heading back.' She told him sadly, looking back through the clearing she thought that Peter and Susan would have surely noticed she was missing.

'Please!' he begged 'It's only around the corner. There will be cake, biscuits and I'll even break out the sardines.' He promised.

'I suppose.' Lucy relented 'If there's sardines.'

'Excellent.' He beamed taking her hand in his allowing her to take shelter from the drifting snow under his umbrella.

As they began to trundle through the snow Lucy's leg braces began squeaking loudly startling the faun who whipped his head back looking for the source of the noise.

'I'm sorry, they make a dreadful racket.' She told him sheepishly.

'Oh my!' the faun exclaimed apparently noticing the thick metal braces for the first time. 'Whatever are they for?'

'They help me walk.'

'Really? Do all humans need them?' Tumnus inquired curiously.

'No. I just got really sick once and my legs don't really work as well anymore.' Lucy explained. In truth that was a much as she understood herself. She remembered being very frightened trapped from the neck down in what at the time felt like a metal coffin unable to move, her father muttering reassurances as stroked her hair.

'Oh I am terribly sorry.' The faun looked genuinely sympathetic, a welcome change from the usual pitying looks she was used to.

As it turns out "Just around the corner" must have meant something different in this world, as the faun led them through the forest and up a mountain path. The terrain was treacherous and Lucy stumbled many a time, but with a strength that belied Tumnus' lithe form he effortlessly managed to catch her each time, never once dropping a parcels or umbrella.

'Ah ha! Here we are.' Tumnus declared throwing Lucy off guard, all she could see was the side of the mountain.

Squinting she could just about see a wooden door in the cliff face. Stepping inside Lucy wasn't quite sure what to expect.

'It's not much.' Tumnus offered humbly.

'It's wonderful.' Lucy told him earnestly. She didn't think she had ever been in a more homely place. It was small and perhaps a little dark as there was only one little round window, but the roaring fire bathed the home in a warm glow. Next to the fire were two arm chairs which Lucy stumbled over to almost sighing in relief as sank into one. The warmth from the fire was bliss to her frozen hands and her legs that ached terribly from the long walk.

While Tumnus busied himself with the tea and cakes Lucy looked around. Behind her seat was a bookshelf that had the oddest titles such as 'Monks and Gamekeepers; a study in popular Legend' and 'Is Man a Myth.'

On the mantel piece was a small framed portrait of a faun, which Lucy carefully pulled onto her lap. The faun in the picture did not appear older than Tumnus, although Lucy had hardly met other fauns to compare to. While the he appeared rather stern, Lucy thought he had a kind face.

Spying what she held, Tumnus told her. 'Ah. That there is my father.'

'He looks just like you.' Lucy told him.

'I'm afraid we are very little alike.' Tumnus murmured.

Carefully putting the portrait back on the mantelpiece, Lucy sighed 'My father is away, fighting in a war.'

'My father went to war as well.' Tumnus told her and the pair shared an empathetic smile. 'Now do you take sugar?' Carefully he placed the tea tray on the little table, Lucy marvelled at the assortment of little cakes and sardines on toast that were there. Lucy thanked him and sipped on her tea.

Seeing the snow still falling through the window Lucy commented 'This reminds me of a Christmas story, sitting by a fire with the snow falling outside.'

'I'm afraid I wouldn't know much about Christmas.' Tumnus sighed 'There hasn't been a Christmas in Narnia in over a hundred years. Always winter and never Christmas.'

'Oh! How dreadful.'

'You should have seen Narnia in spring, we the fauns would dance with the dryads all night.' Tumnus commented wistfully staring into the fire. 'Or so I have been told, I can't recall anything but winter' Shaking himself Tumnus broke into a grin. 'Oh, listen to me I sound like a faun twice my age lamenting days long gone. I say how about a bit of music?'

'That sounds lovely.'

He opened a small box, which sat on the mantelpiece, and pulled out a pan flute. 'Now are you familiar with any Narnian lullabies?' at Lucy's shake of her head he smiled and told her 'Good, because this will probably sound nothing like one.'

He began to play and to Lucy's disappointment she found the tune to be very melancholic, but she smiled politely and sipped her tea despite the uncomfortable shivers that the tune sent down her spine.

Turning her gaze to the fire she watched the flames flicker, only to gasp as the fire spluttered and a small figure emerged from the flames. The fire spluttered again and another figure emerged and began to dancing with the other. Soon more little figures in different shapes joined them and Lucy found she could not tare her eyes away, although her eyelids had began to droop.

She didn't notice her tea cup begin to slip from her limp grasp; she never heard it hit the ground as she had slipped into a deep slumber.

Tumnus continued playing regardless of his now lack of audience, he too gazed at the dancing figures in the flames and could not help but lament over summer days long ago.

The flames abruptly began to rise and through the flames a lion burst forth, letting lose an almost deafening roar, the fire died with a final hiss and the lone faun was left trembling in the dark.

When Lucy woke some hours later, she startled, the room was no longer bathed in the warm glow of the fire but a weak red glow. Through the little portal window she could see the last remaining rays of sun glowing weakly on the horizon.

'I really must be getting back now.' She fretted.

'It's too late for that.' Tumnus murmured. Turning she saw her new found friend curled up at the bottom of a small set of stairs.

'Tumnus?' she asked shocked. What in the world could have reduced her friend to such a state? 'What's ever is the matter?' she asked, her braces creaking and groaning as she crouched next to him. To her dismay the faun merely began to cry louder.

'Oh please Mr Tumnus do stop crying and tell me what's wrong.' She pleaded pulling a hanky from her sleeve and placing it in his hand.

The Faun took it gratefully and loudly began to blow his nose. 'I am so sorry, Lucy, for everything! I am such a dreadful faun.'

'Oh, don't say such a thing. You're the nicest faun I have ever met.' She bit her lip before uncertainly venturing 'I'm sure whatever it is can't be all bad.'

He let out a bitter laugh 'Then I'm afraid you have had a very poor sampling. I am the worst. If my father were alive to see me I dread to think... There is no other way. There is no way out of this.' He trailed off and began sobbing in earnest.

Lucy looked again at the setting sun through the window. Peter and Susan must have searched the whole house for her by now.

'Tumnus, I'm really sorry but I ought to be getting back-.'

'You can't leave.'

Lucy's heart dropped 'W'-what do you mean?' she stammered. In that moment she realised that the room had grown so cold without the warmth of fire that she could see her every breath.

'I can't let you go. If I did she will turn me stone.'

'Who?!'

'The White Witch!' he cried 'She is the reason why it is always winter. She gave orders that if we found any humans wondering in the woods we were to turn it over to her.'

'Oh, but you mustn't!' she gasped. To her horror she found he could no longer meet her eyes. 'I thought you were my friend.' She whimpered.

Tumnus glanced at her through red rimmed eyes and caught a glimpse of his father's portrait over her shoulder.

'I'm not worthy of such a title, my dear.' He muttered desponded. 'But there may still be time for me to earn it.'

He startled her by jumping to his feet (well hooves.) 'We must be quick; it's a miracle she does not know that you are here already. We'll have to run-' he trailed off as he saw Lucy's face fall and she stared helplessly at the braces around her legs.

'If you cannot run then I shall carry you.' He told earnestly, kneeling down in front of her, she put her arms around his neck and he picked her off the ground with ease.

'I knew you were my friend.' She whispered into his ear.

Opening the front door his heart thundered in his chest as he saw the last ray of sun dip below the horizon. Nightfall presented a new kind of challenge bats, ghouls and goblins they were loyal to her alone, grateful for the lengthy nights her winter brought them. Soon they would awaken and then the woods would be swarming with them.

Taking a deep breath the young faun mustered all of his courage. 'Whatever you do don't let go. I would also recommend that you don't look down, especially if you are afraid of heights.'

'What do you -MEAN?!' she screeched as Tumnus brook into a run and too her horror leaped off the mountain side.

He landed on both feet skidding slightly in the thick snow not pausing for even to regain his balance, sprinting as fast he could through the snow.

Lucy was sure her tight grip around his neck must have hurt but her fear kept from loosening her grip. Tumnus did not complain and merely continued to run with an agility no human could possess.

'We must hurry.' He gasped between breaths 'Even some the trees are on her side.'

It wasn't long before they reached the lamppost. Gently setting Lucy down Tumnus hunched over gasping for breath.

'Are you alright?' Lucy asked him, placing her hand on his shoulder.

'Yes, I'm just not quite the athletic faun I was.' He grinned tiredly. 'Can you find your way back from here?'

'Yes, I'm sure I can.' She told him.

'Here.' He pulled her hanky out from under his scarf.

Shaking her head she pressed it back into his hands 'Keep it you need it more than I do.'

He let out a breathless laugh 'I hope we will meet again Lucy Pevenise.'

'We will and Tumnus? Thank you.'

'Whatever for?' he asked puzzled.

'For being my friend.' She answered with a grin before making her way as quickly as her legs would allow.

She pushed her way through the thick foliage, praying she had remembered the way rightly, she breathed a huge sigh of relief when her hand brushed against soft fur.

Stumbling out of the wardrobe she cried out 'I'm back, I'm back!' and almost bawled Peter over as he poked his head around the door.

Grinning she threw her arms around his waist 'I'm alright, I'm back.'

'Back from where Lu?' Peter laughed bemused. Lucy blinked he didn't appear worried or upset in the slightest. Peering around him, she could see Susan just behind him but the older girl just looked puzzled.

'I've been gone for hours.' She told them puzzled by their lack of worry. Peter's eyebrows shot up and Susan frowned.

'Lucy what on earth are you talking about?' the older girl asked.

'I'll show you!' Lucy grabbed their arms and pulled them over to the wardrobe. 'There's a whole other world in there! Right in the back of the wardrobe.'

Standing to side she grinned as Peter stepped into the wardrobe.

'You have some imagination Lu. The only wood I can see is the back of the wardrobe.'

Flustered Lucy poked her head under Peter's arm and peered into the wardrobe, surely enough the wooden panels at the back of the wardrobe were clear to see. Lucy could only gape uselessly 'But,but...'

'Oh Lucy! Look at the mess you've made.' Susan scowled as she spied the crumbled coats at the bottom of the wardrobe. Picking them up she dusted them off before putting them back on their hangers.

Lucy barely heard her still gaping at the back of the wardrobe only coming out of her trance when Peter ruffled her hair.

'Sorry Lu. Not all of us have your imagination.'

Lucy's lip quivered, not wanting the others to see her tears she slipped out of the room, bumming shoulders with Edmund in the corridor.

The freckled boy merely raised his eyebrow as he watched her fighting back tears as she passed him.

She didn't stop until she got back to her room throwing herself on the bed she allowed herself to cry, the stress and confusion of the day had been far too overwhelming and it wasn't long until she drifted off to sleep.


End file.
